


From Dusk to Dawn

by SuperbOwl



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Cutesy, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route Spoilers, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Hugs, Post-Golden Deer Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Revelations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:14:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22929292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperbOwl/pseuds/SuperbOwl
Summary: Lysithea wishes to send a message to her parents about all that's happened to her since the war ended. My gift to Lysithea on her birthday!
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Lysithea von Ordelia
Comments: 3
Kudos: 48





	From Dusk to Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday to Lysithea! Here is my contribution to her special day, one that she can celebrate for many years to come thanks to Byleth's efforts! Though obviously I can't top Byleth's gift to her. After all, what greater gift can you give to her than the future?

Her vision brightened from the blank darkness that enshrouded it as she lay half-awake in bed. Her mind went suddenly abuzz as consciousness was restored, and a drive to arise from her slumber stirred in her breast as the dawn of a new day, a new Fódlan, greeted her. There was so much to do today and not enough hours in which to do them.

Slowly her eyelids opened to the dull wooden ceiling of the room, straining from the sand in her eyes. She rises her body just as slowly, stretching her arms out until she hears the pops of her muscles and bringing her palms to her eyes to wipe the sleep away. The air here was cool, but not uncomfortable, nipping at her exposed hands and wrists as it left the warm sanctity of the bedsheets and comforter. It was a sure sign that the harvest season had come and would soon make way for the solstice in two months time.

Resting her hands back down after removing as much sand as she could, she scanned the room to ensure everything was in order. There was not a book out of place, every object still exactly where she remembered it was before drifting off to sleep the night before. It was unnecessary she knew, but she was meticulous about organization, unable to stand a messy space for all of her life. That had not changed since the Three Houses War, as the people were quick to calling it, and certainly didn't change ever since she became engaged.

She looked down at the man sleeping next to her, his back laying against the bed, eyes relaxed and closed, and the covers rising and falling in a steady rhythm. She smiled tiredly at him, still as handsome as ever even while he was sleeping as her heart fluttered at the man that had done so much for her in the few years she had known him. Her professor, her friend, her savior, and since yesterday, her fiancé.

Yesterday had been such a tempest of emotion that she was surprised that she was even able to fall asleep. The elation of having her Crests removed after several agonizing years had not waned even after a month after her operation, but then yesterday her life had changed again. Byleth, the man that had entered her life as her teacher five and a half years ago, the very same one that she developed feelings toward during her time as his student that slowly blossomed into love during their search for a cure, reciprocated those feelings.

She would never forget that day for as long as she lived. It was a day of more than one confession as he informed her of some of the power bestowed upon him by the goddess Sothis. She had to admit that it was shocking news that he had the power to rewind time, if only by a few moments, but rather than be upset about his hiding this revelation she was honored to know such a secret. She was now the only one who knew more of what he was capable of performing. It was only after learning this secret that he held nothing back as he handed her the ring his father left for him, already knowing what her answer would be after confessing her own feelings beforehand. So overcome with joy that for the first time in a very long time tears had flowed freely from her eyes. The man who saved her wanted her to be with him always as his wife, his queen.

Her eyes went wide at the reminder as her body froze. A queen... never in her life had she anticipated becoming royalty, much less the one that ruled over a united Fódlan. Originally it had been her intention to quietly live out her remaining days as a commoner alongside her parents once she relinquished their nobility. She had spent most of yesterday in almost perpetual shock at the idea of becoming a queen as the thought was far from her mind at the Goddess Tower. Despite her knowledge on the subject as was required for her upbringing, she loathed politics and those that played in that despicable game. Yet Byleth knew next to nothing about ruling a nation, and so she decided that even if he did not feel the same as her she would have still supported him as an advisor. To her pleasant surprise, she would instead be his spouse to support him throughout their reign.

Now here they were, just recently engaged and already sharing a room together. Nothing came of it last night, but simply the first night either them had ever shared a bed with another. She had been in his room many times before, whether to approach him with questions regarding an assignment, or to seek him out on anything that troubled her, but to sleep with him? Any other time and both of them would have been subject to gossip and, if during her time at the Officers Academy, harsh punishment.

Not wanting to waste anymore time, she carefully dragged her nightgown-covered legs out from underneath the covers, gently placing them on the rug below. She felt a twinge in them as she set them down, her legs still sensitive from her operation. It was a vexing side effect of having both Crests removed, the loss of so much power along with a not so physically fit body meant her becoming frail as a result. She had since recovered somewhat thanks to being forced on a strict diet to aid in the process, but even now she could only move a short distance of her own volition and only at a slow pace. Anything further and she was likely to collapse and not get back up.

And she absolutely did not want that to happen, not now. With all the excitement that had occurred ever since Nemesis was slain she did not have any time to do something she had always meant to do since then. Her parents did not know the entirety of her well-being ever since the battle, at least not from her own words. Each of her friends had sent letters to their homes to assure their own parents that the war was over and that they had survived. Not her though. Once they had returned to the monastery preparations immediately began to perform the operation meant to remove her Crests. With her body in the state it was afterward she could not function on her own and it was only until now that she felt she could do so. Regardless, they needed to know she was all right and she had put it off long enough.

She took her first step forward and a prickling sensation danced across her leg as it landed, thankfully lessened by the soft rug beneath her. She winced at the feeling as it diminished toward her torso, minor shockwaves echoing to the other parts of her body. She felt so helpless in this state, almost as if she was learning how to walk all over again. If she had to go any further she would have had no choice but to wake up Byleth and help her get to where she intended. Fortunately it would only be a few short steps to his desk and then she could sit and she did not want to wake him up and disturb his rest.

After a few more agonizing seconds later she made it over to his chair. Creeping her arm up she rested a hand first on his desk to prop herself, then placed the other on the back of the chair, coming down more quickly than she intended. Her knees buckled underneath as they momentarily turned to jelly, nearly stumbling to the floor, but was able to keep herself anchored due to her earlier precaution. She looked back over to Byleth and breathed a quiet sigh of relief that he had not stirred.

Frustration set in as the last of the shock of nearly collapsing faded away. It was what she had to deal with for the past few weeks as her body began the recovery process. At first she could barely walk under her own power or even move any part of her body. Though she had accepted Byleth's help in getting around the monastery, she felt like such a child having to rely so heavily on others for the most simplest of tasks. A portion of her strength had returned now, but the road to recovery would be long she feared.

She let the frustration pass. Both of them knew there would be side effects for having two Crests removed from a body, but she wouldn't allow herself to outwardly complain. If it meant having her life restored to her, then she was willing to withstand the consequences of doing so. Now she was willing to do what was necessary to speed her recovery, even if it meant eating disgusting vegetables. She knew she wouldn't be of much use to her future husband if she was lame the whole time, a fear that drove her onward, vowing to never let that be the case. He had done so much for her; she wanted to return the favor, but she couldn't do it if she was bedridden.

Propping herself back up she straightened out before descending and sliding herself into the chair with no further trouble. With the first difficult part out of the way, she opened the top drawer in his desk to find a neatly stacked pile of blank paper and brought out a few sheets. Once placed in front of her, she next brought over his inkwell from the corner of the desk, its corresponding quill still dipped inside. Finally, she pulled a candle over from the opposite side and, with the most minor of efforts conjured a tiny flame above her finger and lit the wick. Everything was ready for what she wanted to do.

Now... how did she want to write it? She rest her arms across the edge of the desk and stared at the blank sheet with a furrowed brow. This was the second difficult part that she was anticipating. She knew the subject of what she wanted to write: to let them know personally that she had survived the final battle against Nemesis, that against all odds her twin Crests had at long last been removed from her body, how she was doing in the aftermath of her operation, and... that she was engaged to the soon-to-be king of Fódlan. She would have liked to see the looks on their faces at the admittedly overwhelming news she had for them, but for now the letter would have to suffice.

But the exact wording of it eluded her. She didn't want to be bombastic about it to make unbelievable, nor did she want to seem like she was diminishing her elation at everything that happened within the past few months. It was likely to be long as well with how much matter she wanted to cover, hence why she wanted to get started with this as early as possible.

After a few moments she decided to at least start with something simple, something to ease them into the topic at hand. A greeting followed by a question of how they were doing and if everyone was all right. Nemesis had carved a path of destruction from the ruins of Shambala to Garreg Mach, making directly for the monastery and the target of his obsession: Rhea, or as she knew now, Seiros. The Ordelia territory was on his warpath and she had worried if her people had survived the carnage.

Nodding, she brought her hand to the quill and lifted it out, letting the ink drip down in its well. Or at least she tried to; the moment she raised it her hand began to shake as she struggled to steady herself. Drops of ink instead landed in an uneven line on either side of the well and some if it on the well itself, sliding down the side and ringing the base. She gritted her teeth in exasperation. Now she was going to need to clean up the mess as soon as she was done, and she was not looking forward to how that would turn out.

Clutching her wrist, she hovered the tip over the corner of the sheet to prepare herself, fortunately not splotching the paper at all along the way. She let go of her wrist at the same time as pressing the tip against paper and began her greeting. It turned into a disaster immediately, with her hand vibrating as she struggled to control the delicate writing utensil, her “D” appearing as though a minor earthquake had occurred. The “e” fared no better as she tried to press on with her work, hoping she could overlook the error but to no avail. She covered her face with her free hand and sighed.

“Even my penmanship is suffering now,” she whispered, staring at her atrocious handwriting between her fingers. “If I'm so weak I can't even hold a quill steady, how am I supposed to write to mother and father?” She closed her eyes for a moment, considering perhaps holding off on this until she was better, before opening them again. “I have to keep going. I've waited too long to update them and they need to know what's happened to me.” She continued onward, trying to correct her shaking hand by clutching at her wrist once more. The shaking died down some, but the letters still rippled as she wrote them out. After several seconds she was able to spell out “Dear” that showed a decreasing trend of zigzagging. If she sent it out her parents might think she was too nervous to write to them.

She let out a dejected sigh. This was going to take far longer than she wanted to, and there were other tasks that needed to be completed today. Foremost among them was she wanted to head into town with Hilda to acquire an engagement ring to give to Byleth. Such was the shock of being proposed to that she had nothing to give him in response at the time, never expecting his feelings for her to go that deeply.

She looked down at the silver ring on her finger, with its amethysts reflecting the gentle light that the candle was providing. They had the appearance of a flower, which according to Byleth his mother adored flowers so naturally the gems would be arranged as such. What was startling was that Jeralt was the one to have had it designed for her, a beautiful ring that spoke highly of how he felt for his wife that sharply contrasted with his rugged exterior. In some way Byleth was much the same, his stony exterior hiding the depths of his feelings for her. She smiled warmly at the ring as she thought of him and admired the dazzling bauble.

She heard the bed sheets rustling behind her as Byleth stirred from his slumber. She swung her head around to see him, his torso covered in plain, black pajamas while his legs were still hidden beneath the covers. He stretched his arms above his head before rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Good morning, Prof-... I mean, Byleth.” She winced as she greeted him, not yet used to addressing him so informally. She wondered how long it would take before she would grow out of that habit.

“Good morning, Lysithea,” he responded groggily. He adjusted himself to meet her gaze. “Sleep well?”

“Yes, although...” She averted her eyes and smiled as warmth filled her cheeks and turned them rosy. “That was the first time I ever shared a bed with anyone... It felt strange at first, but knowing it was you put me at ease.”

Byleth smiled, the same one that could easily uplift any person that saw it. “No nightmares then?”

She looked back after shaking her head. “None to speak of. I think having you by my side helps with that.”

“I'm glad to hear it.”

“And yourself?”

Byleth slipped out of bed now, revealing his bare feet and the pants that matched exactly with his shirt. His choice in attire was certainly ordinary for someone who was anything but. Then again, who needed fancy sleepwear? “Nothing. I have you to thank for that.”

The blush in her cheeks deepened. “Yo-you're welcome. I do want to do anything I can to help you.”

Byleth walked over and bent down enough to plant a kiss on her temple, his face radiating warmth as he did so. “I appreciate that. I want to do the same for you.”

She looked up into his eyes and could read the genuineness behind them. She smiled at him with her own soft eyes. “You already have,” she muttered.

It was almost hard to imagine him being so affectionate before now, but she had, with his permission, read some of Jeralt's diary and it explained much. Jeralt too was something of a romantic as his rather mushy entries about Byleth's mother indicated, a side of him that no one could have guessed was possible of the gritty mercenary. Byleth had apparently absorbed himself in those entries, the first time he had ever been exposed to this side of his father and to love in general and taken it to heart. Now she was seeing a side of him in much the same way that Jeralt only showed to Sitri. It made her heart flutter knowing that she was the only one who would get to see it, making him all the more endearing knowing it was for her.

She returned her attention to her paper, and her mood soured once more as she looked at the appalling word she left on it. It was going to be quite the challenge to try and get this done, and she had no clue how long she would make it. So much to cover, and not enough time in the day to do so at this rate.

“What is this?” he questioned curiously, his arms wrapping around her collar and gently resting them against her body. She could hear her heart beating a bit more rapidly at the contact. His arms felt tentative, testing to see how much contact she would allow from him and perhaps he allowed from himself. She made no motion for him to remove them so they remained around her and pressed down a fraction further.

“It's a letter to my parents,” she explained downtrodden. “I realized a few weeks ago that I had not personally informed them of how I was doing. I wanted to say something after the operation, but I didn't expect having my Crests removed would take such a toll on my body. In retrospect, I should have anticipated that, but...”

“We couldn't know what would happen afterward,” he assured her, his head now next to hers and only serving to make her heart race faster. “I'm sure they will understand.”

“I wish I could see their reactions when they learn of my Crests. There's so much I want to say to them. About how I survived the war, how my Crests were finally removed from me..., and my engagement to the soon-to-be king of Fódlan.”

“I will have to ask your father for your hand in marriage,” he stated.

“That seems unnecessary to do so, don't you think?” she asked in surprise, her head adjusting to bring his face into view. She now realized just how close his was to hers.

“It would be arrogant if I didn't.”

She blinked, though she wasn't at all surprised of how considerate he was being. Then she smirked. “I suspect his answer would be one of approval however.”

“It may not be too.”

Her eyes went wide at the suggestion. “I don't see how that's possible. Although now I'm curious, prof- Byleth. What will you do if father declines?”

“I will convince him by other means,” he answered with resolve, already knowing his response. “If he believes my feelings for you are not genuine, then I will prove him wrong.” Now he turned his head to meet her gaze. “I do not want anyone else but you.”

“Byleth...” Her face suddenly felt like it was on fire, and even he started to have a blush on his visage too. She was still confident that her father would approve, but it was nice to be reminded how much he was in love with her.

She leaned closer to him to plant a quick, chaste kiss on his lips, a much needed outlet for the well of emotion that rose within her. His lips were chapped and dry, but she could detect the faintest hint of the strawberry tart they shared last evening. When she pulled away she saw a light streak of pink racing across his cheeks, a sight rarer than even his own smiles. A feeling of pride swelled within knowing that she was the only one who could get him to do that.

“Um...” he stammered, eliciting a light giggle from her.

She smirked, both from his reaction and from also not calling him “professor”. “Have I left you speechless, Byleth? From just a simple kiss?” He averted his eyes and it only brought another giggle forth. How fun it was to see the once stoic professor become flustered by a small, romantic gesture.

She once more returned her attention to her work, and brought her hand over to continue where she left off. Much as before her hand began shaking as she tried to write the next word out. She tightened her hold on the quill in an attempt to hide the weakness in her wrist from Byleth, the past idea of her other hand controlling her vibrations thrown out for being too obvious. She brought the tip against the paper, but in her efforts the ink left a blotch on the corner of the “M” she wanted. She quietly grunted in frustration at the mistake.

“You don't have to write this now,” Byleth pointed out, her actions not escaping his gaze. She knew the objection was coming and she bristled under his statement, but was at least glad he did not ask an obvious question.

“I need to write this,” she countered with a furrowed brow. “I delayed it long enough. Mother and father need to know what's happened to me since the war ended. From my own words.”

“Your 'dear' is nearly illegible.”

Lysithea flinched. “I'm... aware that it will be a struggle, but it must be done. I'm sure they're eager to know our progress on my Crests, and they deserve to know what's become of them.”

“Can't it wait until you've recovered more?”

She looked at him dead in the eyes. “I wanted to write this immediately after the operation, but my body was too weak. I've recovered enough that I can move on my own, even if it is slow.” She swung back and tried to continue on. “Once I do this I need to get back to work. I'm sick of being forced to watch everyone contribute to rebuilding and feeling so... useless!”

“Lysa...” gently muttered Byleth. Aware of Lysithea's tendency to get worked up, he tried to calm her down. He could see the growing frustration as she wrote out her next word, pressing the quill down into the paper to the point that he worried it would rip.

“I also need to go shopping with Hilda later today for something important,” she continued, seeming to not have heard him. “Then I will need to start packing my belongings and return home to begin my family's dissolution. The sooner I get that done, the sooner I can come back to y-” She underestimated how much pressure she was putting on the sheet and ripped a small hole downward into it. She let out a low growl behind clenched teeth at the careless error. “Now I have to start all over again!”

By this point Byleth removed one arm around her and laid his hand on her dominant one. “It can wait,” he soothed. “This is something that should be done right, not quickly.”

She flung her head around toward him again. “I told you! I've waited long enough to-!”

“You don't need to rush anymore, Lysithea,” his voice was as firm as his eyes. “You have all the time in the world now.”

All of time seemed to have stopped for her the moment those words left his mouth. Her eyes went the widest Byleth had seen them for a second time, her mouth went agape, and her body went deathly still with the quill slipping from her grasp, tumbling over her hand. Byleth became worried for a moment that he might have crossed a line as he looked upon her. “Lysithea?”

She looked back at her now slightly torn work, her fingertips resting on the parchment. She stared at them intently as his words ran through her head over and over again.

_I don't need to rush anymore..._

Her hands began to tremble, followed by her arms.

_I don't need to rush anymore..._

The trembling soon turned into shaking.

_I don't need to rush anymore..._

Her body was shaking now and she gritted her teeth.

_I don't need to rush anymore..._

Her eyes welled up and her brows knitted.

“I don't need to rush anymore...” she murmured beneath her breath, stunned by the revelation. Her body grew weaker than before from her waning resistance. Her lower lip quivered as two tears streaked down her cheeks. They fell onto the parchment with small taps, then another, then another as a random pattern of stains formed on the bottom of the sheet. “Ah... I...”

“Lysithea?!” Byleth repeated, now afraid that he had upset her.

“I don't need to rush anymore!” she cried out, her hands flying up to cover her face. She sobbed into her palms as Byleth breathed a quiet sigh of relief, happy that he was wrong and that the tears were of joy and not sorrow.

Lysithea cried for the second time in years as the room became filled with the sounds of her weeping. In the weeks after her operation she had never once thought on the implications of what it would bring to her routine. For so long she felt the need to spend as much time as possible on whatever subject or topic she plunged herself into, devoting her time to learning everything she could to be of value to her parents, friends, and professor. With such precious time left for her, she did not afford herself much to slow down and tackle things at a more leisurely pace.

Now her life had been restored to her, but it wasn't until now that she realized what it meant. She had been so caught up in the whirlwind of elation she felt of finally being rid of her Crests and being engaged to Byleth that it was only until he now brought it up did she discover the revelation. She could finally ease the pressure she put on herself, could at last take her time on whatever she wanted.

Her hands slid to his and gripped at them tightly, revealing her scrunched face as tears streaked down her cheeks, and stuttering hisses escaping through clenched teeth. Her head tilted down as her strength waned further and her tears fell into her lap. Byleth nuzzled his cheek against her hair, smiling ever so slightly at the softness of it. He carefully tightened his arms around her in an embrace to share in her renewed joy of the world of benefits being free of curse brought to her.

A couple minutes went by before Lysithea was able to calm down from her happiness, Byleth never uttering word the whole time as he let her have her moment. Her grip on his hands slackened and she finally looked directly at him, eyes still moistened and a little red.

“I can...” she finally spoke, sniffling as she did, “I can finally slow down. I can relax after so many years of having to rush in everything I do. I... I...” She couldn't resist anymore and let go of him only to cup his cheeks and bring him into a far deeper kiss than before. Byleth let out a muffled grunt as he was taken by surprise once more, but quickly melted into it. In that moment the feeling of having her life restored after years of silent suffering, and being able to finally do the things that others could but not her, returned anew as fresh as it was yesterday. And she had the man in front of her to thank for such a gift. They lingered there for a few seconds more before she pulled away, her cheeks and ears flushed. “S-sorry. I'm just... so happy to know that I have all the time in the world now. I owe all of that to you.”

“You owe me nothing,” said Byleth with a smile. “I wanted to help you.”

“And I want to support you in return,” she argued. “Regardless of what you say I do owe you my life, and I'm going to use this second chance to help you after everything you've done for me. But first... I need to write this letter.” She looked at the sheet in dismay as she reminded herself of the damage it suffered in addition to the several wet stains on the bottom of it.

“You're still rushing.”

“I've been doing it for so many years now I don't think I'll ever let up on it. It's ingrained into me now, but... it is nice that I at least have the option. Besides, I want to do this even if... it will take some time.”

At last Byleth retracted his arms and came around to her side. “Might I offer a compromise?” She turned toward him. “I will write the letter, and you dictate.”

Lysithea wanted to protest that it had to be her handwriting, but a quick glance back at the poor example she made was all the reason she needed to not do so. She thought it over briefly before relenting to his suggestion, knowing that her parents would at least recognize that the words were hers. Yet there was still something that bothered her.

“I don't want to take up your time, my love,” she said. “Surely you have your duties to attend to.”

“It's Sunday, Lysa.”

Lysithea blinked. “Right... I-I knew that... Okay. Let's do this together then!” Byleth nodded and brought out the other chair that was tucked away and sat it at an angle next to her. He offered his hand and she took it into hers gratefully. She slowly slid her way over and Byleth soon refilled the space she left. He pushed the damaged sheet aside and brought over a fresh one and dipped the quill into its inkwell.

Lysithea sat relieved as she watched him prepare, a smile plastered on her face as she wiped the stains on her cheeks. It would be the first thing they would truly do together as betrothed, and she would take as much time as she needed to ensure it came out right. The dusk of her old life had disappeared, and a new dawn had arisen for her, one that brought a wealth of opportunity for her. And now she had more time than she knew what to do with to accomplish everything toward a better Fódlan, and she would do so at Byleth's side.

“Ready?” he asked her.

“Yes.” she nodded, and leaned herself on the desk. “Dear Mother and Father...”.


End file.
